The Mystery of God's Love

"There once was a man named Job who lived in the land of Uz..." Job 1:1a

From a young age I have played the piano. Annually my teacher would encourage participation in music festivals. I would have preferred avoiding these stress inducers, but apparently their purpose was to make me a better performer. I remember one competition that had received much preparation. My presentation was flawless. The audience applauded. First place was in my grasp. No other contestant was without error. It was mine. As the judges stepped forward to present the certificates, I was handed second place. First place was awarded to one who not only stumbled through the performance, but who forgot her memory and had to get her book. It made absolutely no sense. Life at times seems unjust and unfair.

Welcome to Job's world. We have just touched the outside realm of Job's turf. Job is a book of misery and mystery. He was like you and I. Quietly living out his ordinary days. "There once was a man named Job who lived in the land of Uz." That could be the beginning of our story today. There once was a woman/man named ______ who lived in the land of ______. Job's story could be our story, and that thought can frighten us. 

We read there was man, then there was a day. A day like no other. A day when life crashed down so hard the living of it seems unimaginable. Job's life is the personification of misery. A misery that God allowed after drawing the Accuser's attention to him. Job was a model man. He had a resume of righteousness, yet his piety and prosperity didn't protect him from pain. Here was a good man, a godly man, a faithful husband, a loving, praying father, then seemingly senseless tragedy invaded his life. So undeserving. No warning. No understanding. A strange cosmic agreement between God and Satan. There is just no comprehending. Life was unfair. Difficulties we can handle, but unfair seems too hard. It is this reality that fills our thoughts with questions.

Job got up one morning and his life changed forever. We too can experience Job moments in our lives. A phone call. A Doctor's report. A knock on the door. None are exempt from sudden tragedy. On a less personal scale, but still impactful, we hear of terror and tragedies, random shootings, child abuse and unexplainable loss and each one screams of the injustice in this world.

Suffering unaccompanied with understanding seems extra hard. If we are punished for doing wrong, although the consequences might bring pain, it is deserving. Job had done nothing wrong. He was a man of integrity, yet God chose for him to endure unfathomable loss and heartache. What makes it seem even more difficult to understand is that it is the Lord Himself who draws the enemy's attention to Job, not once, but twice. "Then the LORD asked Satan, 'Have you noticed My servant Job?'" (Job 1:8; 2:3) To this reality we must believe, as Chris Tiegreen writes, "God wouldn't offer up His servant for testing if He didn't already know the outcome." 

Journeying through the pages of the life of Job is not easy. I think it is natural to read and wonder if God could ask such a trial of each one of us. How many can truly say with Paul that we want to know Christ in His suffering? (Philippians 3:10) Most of us want to avoid hardship at any cost. We know that at any moment, if not for the grace of God, Job's life could be ours. That possibility can hold a shadow over our heads and fill our minds with 'what-ifs' and potential worries. 

Suffering is a revealer of relationship. Do we love God for what He does for us or who He is? Do storms in life make us ask, "Where is God?" We must remember, as Alistair Begg writes, "God's sovereign rule extended over Job's affliction and Satan's jurisdiction." As children of the Heavenly Father we can live being confident of His care and control over every moment of our days. We are continually held in the mystery of His love.

"Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, Let this blessed assurance control;

That Christ has regarded my helpless estate, And has shed His own blood for my soul."

(Horatio Spafford; "It Is Well With My Soul"; copyright 1873)

Ammunition or Ambassadors?

"Live wisely among those who are not believers, and make the most of every opportunity. Let your conversation be gracious and attractive so that you will have the right response for everyone." Colossians 4:5-6

"Make the most of every opportunity." I used to believe that this phrase only referenced sharing the gospel message. Whenever an occasion opens up to speak a word for Christ, we need to seize it and not let the window of time pass by without declaring our faith. This is right and good, but I have come to realize this verse means more than verbally telling others about Jesus. 

What about when we are feeling exasperated with the service man at our house who seems to be giving us the run around? Is patience evidenced? When someone hurts our feelings, how quickly do we offer forgiveness? When an appointment is running late, do we extend grace? If the car driving in front of us is going slower than we'd like, how are we responding? Are our words with the solicitor too abrupt, bordering on cruel? Do we consider how others see Christ in us at these moments? Are we making the most of these God-given opportunities?

Throughout our day we have countless encounters that provide ways for us to demonstrate that having Christ living in us makes a difference, but does anyone see Him by our reactions? Paul writes about having "the right response for everyone". That's not talking about having a wise answer and being so knowledgeable that we can intelligently reply in every conversation. The "right response" is the one God would have us give, and at times it could even mean silence.

Our conduct as believers is a powerful evangelizing tool. Peter writes in 1 Peter 2:12, "Be careful to live properly among your unbelieving neighbours. Then even if they accuse you of doing wrong, they will see your honourable behaviour, and they will give honour to God when He judges the world." Too often we give our unbelieving friends ammunition against Jesus. Often the choices we make reflect so poorly on the Christ we claim to follow that we harm any possibility we might have to testify to the truth of God's word.

In every situation we are to practically live out the gospel message in a way that attracts others to our Saviour. Is our conduct favourable and appealing to the world? We need to be so aware of what we say and how we say it. Our tongues can turn others away from ever listening to anything we have to say in the future. The unsaved are looking at our lives and they are quick to criticize, yet we make it so easy for them to find fault when we allow frustration, anger and impatience to characterize our interactions with others.

Our entire lives are one big opportunity to be ambassadors for Christ. How often, even today, have we wounded His reputation? We need to seriously evaluate every word we say, every activity we participate in, every rolled eye, every tone, all aspects of our day-to-day happenings to determine how each action affects our witness for Christ. Are we making it more difficult for someone to one day hear us share the gospel with them? Does our speech betray our testimony? In anger do we speak our mind without minding what we say? When we react rashly, we are ruining opportunities to let others see Jesus in us. We must give careful consideration of the possible consequences to our impulsivity.

"Each day, we are to yield ourselves fully to Jesus, so that we may live wisely and respond graciously to others about the One who gives us the assurance of eternal life." - David C. McCasland

"Oh, make me, Lord, so much like Thee, My life controlled by power divine,

That I a shining light may be, From which Thy grace may ever shine." - Robertson

"A Christlike life can be a message of hope to a searching world."

"Take Me Along With You"

"Then Queen Esther, the daughter of Abihail, along with Mordecai the Jew, wrote another letter putting the queen's full authority behind Mordecai's letter to establish the Festival of Purim." Esther 9:29

As a teenager, I was part of a girls' choir, The Oshawa Festival Singers. There were two sisters, a little older than myself, who had the most gorgeous voices, and their harmonies were exquisite. Not only could they sing, but the glimmer and glee in their eyes as they sang, animated their performances and made them favourites to many. One of the first duets I ever heard them share was entitled, "Take Me Along With You". The lyrics to that melody have recaptured my thoughts today in the reading of Esther.

The book of Esther is a thrilling retelling of a young woman who bravely fulfilled her calling, ascending to the throne of Persia and being instrumental in saving her people, the Jews, from annihilation. There are so many encouragements and take-aways. God's name is never mentioned in the ten chapters, but His presence is seen through His people as they trust in His prevailing providence.

All the characters are key and each detail is vital to the outcome of the situation. Just when circumstances look completely hopeless, a king has a sleepless night and a reversal begins that sees the enemy destroyed and the Jewish people saved. Although Esther is hailed as the hero and praised for her courage, her cousin Mordecai certainly played a valuable supporting role. Mordecai was Esther's "along with". Although physically separated through much of the pages of Esther, it was his influence and inspiration that motivated her to fulfill her calling.

Last evening I was reading the "Acknowledgements" in the back of a book I had just completed. Yes, I'm one of those people who read an entire book from cover to cover. The author was crediting her grandfather. She said the reader was holding in their hands the result of a Papa believing that her words mattered. "Every word I've ever written and will ever write is because you loved me, believed me, challenged me, and helped me center myself every time I lost my way." He was her "along with".

Rarely do lone rangers accomplish great tasks. There might be one person who takes the final step of action, but behind them is a team of dedicated supporters who were the strength and stamina, holding them up and lovingly pushing them forward. Our destiny's will not be fulfilled without our "along withs".

We need to work in conjunction with others. We should never be a one-man-show. There is a joy in partnership that is unspeakable. As I reflect back on those who motivate me to be more than I think I am or can be, names flood my mind. I am so very thankful for the village of family and friends who never stop their "withness".

There is no denying that Mordecai plays a vital role in the plot. Without Mordecai's refusal to bow to the evil Haman, the enemy's anger wouldn't have arisen, at least not yet. The actions of Esther's cousin move the storyline along, putting Esther in a position to seek the favour of the king.

It's vital to note, although a scheduled scheme is devised to eliminate God's people, no man-made strategy subjected on any of God's children moves forward against the Lord's command. As Christ-followers we are never at the mercy of evil. God is in control and sovereign over all things. A colossal turnaround can suddenly change the trajectory of history as the Lord intervenes on behalf of His people.

Today, not only am I thankful for the "along with" companions who have kept me embracing all the Lord has for me, but I also want to consider who needs me to be their "along with", offering words of truth that will help them follow the Lord for such a time as this.

Ebenezers of Unfailing Love

"I am praying to You because I know You will answer, O God. Bend down and listen as I pray. Show me Your unfailing love in wonderful ways." Psalm 17:6-7a

Why do we pray? What is it that moves us to intentionally take time to talk to God? Do we have a daily longing to enter into conversation with the Lord? The Psalmist expresses assurance in receiving an answer. "I'm praying to You because I know You will answer." Do we always have confidence that God will respond to our prayers? David, the writer of Psalm 17, is very specific. He desires the answer to give evidence of God's unfailing love in some wonderful way. But what if God's wonderful doesn't reflect the definition of our wonderful?

Do you ever sit with a list of huge prayer requests? These are the big ones. Without the intervention of God, certain situations are not going to change. We pray with intensity and expectancy. We earnestly contend in combat, pleading for the Lord to step in, answer in our favour and alter the outcome. It makes me recall when my nephew received a Wii for Christmas. For any who don't know, a Wii is a machine that enables you to play interactive games on the television. One of the first activities I engaged in was a boxing match. I couldn't believe how exhausting it was physically. I mean, basically, I was fighting air, but I was doing it with vigour. I couldn't give up, back off or let down or my "opponent" would overpower me and win.

Wrestling is a sport that requires strength, stamina and unceasing exertion. Have we ever strived with God like that over a prayer concern? How quickly do we give up and relent, discouraged that we haven't seen any activity in the heavenlies, so we assume it's best to abandon the ask? Do we find God's silence easier to handle than His 'no'? At least, without a response, there hasn't yet been a definite end. The hope of an answer is still out there.

It's hard when God's "wonderful" involves teaching us to persevere, trust, endure, have patience and wait. His unfailing love in wonderful ways towards us is felt most deeply in the middle of all those things we desperately don't want to touch our lives. We know He loves us on our good days, but it is in our dark days when our experience of His care for us is more profound. I think we all know that, but we often hate the journey involved to reveal this truth. I read a young woman's testimony recently who admitted to God, "I'm so tired of being a test subject for Your faithfulness." We maybe haven't voiced that before, but I for one have felt it.

Being raised in a home where the character of God was never doubted or debated, there was an unarguable acceptance that if God allowed some calamity, heartache or pain, there was always a reason and our response was to be joyful in affliction. Sometimes that joy is a hard burden to bear. 

The equation sounds so simple at first. Prayer equals answer. Is that any answer or just our answer? What if years have passed without seeing any response from God? What if the formula the Psalmist is suggesting fails? We then wonder, is this the only faulty calculation we believed or are others in jeopardy now too? Our theologies must be tested to discover the truth. God isn't a formula who makes sense to us, and He never will be.

I worry sometimes that prayer becomes only a transaction. We read scriptures that reassure us that those who ask, receive and so we make prayer an agreement. I need this. God can do anything. I pray. God is supposed to answer. The end. God is not a genie in a bottle that we rub the right way to get a desired outcome. Prayer isn't about the answer. Pray is about communion and relationship. Does He, in unfailing love, answer in wonderful ways? Yes, and He has lavished significant, life-changing, miraculous answers on me to which I give witness with great praise. But I have also begged Him with other requests that challenged and deepened my faith when His quiet whispers invited me to walk a road I wanted to avoid. A road now lined with Ebenezers of His presence. His coming near is His greatest answer of unfailing love.

Mourning at Our Gates

"When Mordecai learned about all that had been done, he tore his clothes, put on burlap and ashes, and went out into the city, crying with a loud and bitter wail.... When Queen Esther's maids and eunuchs came and told her about Mordecai, she was deeply distressed. She sent clothing to him to replace the burlap, but he refused it." Esther 4:1,4

How do we respond to the suffering of others? It is so hard to watch loved ones going through difficult times and feeling so helpless to change their situation. Often, we want to fix whatever caused their pain, but life isn't that simple. Oh, if only we could right every wrong and lift every burden.

King Xerxes has just issued a decree that all Jews must be killed on a single day. Upon hearing this announcement, Mordecai puts on sackcloth and ashes, going into the city as far as the palace gate. His clothing of mourning attracts the attention of Queen Esther's maids and eunuchs. Only a gate is separating them in proximity, but worlds apart in position. Upon hearing of her cousin's distress, she sends clothing to replace the burlap, but he refuses to accept it.

Growing up in my home, I would watch my mom instantly plug the kettle in whenever anyone came to our door with a need. A cup of tea was the cure for everything. Not really, but it represented time to sit together, listen, cry, hug and pray. My mom was also a firm believer that it didn't matter how terrible one was feeling, getting washed and dressed was always beneficial to aid recovery. Regardless of how poorly we felt, apparently "appearing" well was going to help us feel better. That might hold some truth, but when one is struggling in any away, they need more than a change of clothes. A heart covered in sackcloth needs ministry.

Queen Esther reacted similar to many of us. As soon as we hear of a need we want to make everything better, even before we know the details of the concern. We offer clothing to cover the sadness. We hate to see suffering. I know in the past when I have seen a friend in pain, at times I have backed away, not because I don't care, but fear of experiencing the grief they are walking makes me create distance so my life isn't touched by their sorrow, a sorrow I can do absolutely nothing about. It is as if their disease or distress will actually become mine if I get too close.

Just this past week a gal reached out to me seeking suggestions for a mutual friend who is currently enduring suffering upon suffering. She wanted to know what has meant the most to me over the past year as we have walked a journey of uncertainty and pain. In reality she was asking, how can we best minister to those mourning at our gates? From one who has worn sackcloth more than she has wished, I'm going to offer three 'p's'. Practical. Presence. Prayer. 

After my husband's cardiac arrest, my next-door neighbour just began cutting our grass. She also came to the door one morning and simply said, "I'm here to take out your garbage." She didn't ask how I needed help; she just began taking care of practical needs. Others dropped off prepared meals to my porch, or ordered online dinners from a favourite restaurant and had them delivered. Again, the question wasn't do you need any food, but will you be home? You see, the time we need help the most, we ask for it the least, but real friends just know. They know that deciding what to have for dinner is too big a decision in the middle of fragile functioning.

The gift of presence is the second way we can minister. Just come and be. Honestly, you don't have to say anything. I think we often hold back from drawing close because we don't know what to say. Here's the answer: you don't have to speak a word. Presence is a comfort. Hurting hearts receive hope from whole ones even in silence.

Thirdly, prayer. Never underestimate the value of prayer. We often speak of praying as if resigning ourselves to accept that it is all we can do. Friends, it is the most we can do! Praying for or with the suffering friend brings such solace as together help from the Comforter is sought. When someone is mourning at our gates, refuse the urge to fix and cover, choosing instead to enter in to their pain and watch the healing begin.

Saying 'No' to the King

"On the seventh day of the feast, when King Xerxes was in high spirits because of the wine, he told the seven eunuchs who attended him...to bring Queen Vashti to him with the royal crown on her head...But when they conveyed the king's order to Queen Vashti, she refused to come..." Esther 1:10-12

King Xerxes was hosting a celebration! He sounds like a teenager throwing a party for his peers while his parents are away! After 180 days of pomp and ceremony, he then extends an invitation to all the people who were in the fortress of Susa to attend a banquet for another seven days in the courtyard of the palace garden. Scripture tells us, that "at the same time, Queen Vashti gave a banquet for the women in the royal palace of King Xerxes." King and Queen both hosting festivities of grandeur, but one is about to be interrupted.

Under the influence of a great deal of wine, the King on a whim, decides he wants to give a little "show and tell". Vashti was a beautiful woman and her husband wants to put her on display for all to see. His pride had turned to perversion. King Xerxes desires to present his queen as a "living trophy of his power and glory" (Karen H. Jobes). This was a summons that would accentuate his control, not only over his kingdom, but his wife.

However, when the eunuchs issued her the king's command, Vashti refused to comply. We are not told why she rejected the orders, but she did. We can surmise reasons. Maybe out of loyalty to the women she was currently hosting she didn't want to leave her celebration. It's been suggested that she could have been pregnant and so she didn't want to appear before the men in public. She may have been carrying a grudge from some earlier marital argument and in anger was not about to let her husband tell her what to do. Whatever the cause, she said 'no' to her king.

Have we ever said 'no' to our King? Oh, I'm not referring to our "Prince Charming" for those of us who are married. I'm wondering, have we ever responded with a definite 'no' when the King of Kings has asked us to come to Him? How He longs to spend time with us. Obedience is the focus of our faith. We are taught to trust and obey, but do we always? What if He seems to be clearly leading us where we don't want to go or do something we definitely don't want to do? And what if we say 'no', will God continue to love us?

I think, more often than not, we table the request God has presented, the one with which we are struggling, turning off our hearts to the matter. Rather than wrestle through to a decision, we delay an answer until a later time, probably hoping that in the interim the Lord will remove the ask. Most often fear and inadequacy are the basis of our refusal. God wants to hear our thoughts as we battle through to a place of acceptance and peace.

If we are honest, and possibly without realizing it, we say 'no' to God daily. We might not outwardly, blatantly and boldly disagree with our Sovereign Ruler, but when considering His commands throughout Scripture, do we always say 'yes'? Maybe we hear a convicting message that stirs our hearts and we know the Holy Spirit is prompting us to act, but we walk away unchanged. Possibly we have become aware of a sin that we have not only refused to confess, but still indulge. Our actions are saying 'no' to God. What about God's Word today to our heart that asks us to forgive another or pray for those who despitefully use us? Are we continually saying 'yes' to His teachings?

When God asks us to do something that we want to avoid, or it just sounds too hard, He is gifting us a new opportunity to experience Him. There are many others here on earth we will and must say 'no' to, but our King should not be one of them. As the Psalmist writes in Psalm 18:30, God's ways are perfect and any invitation He extends to us will be for our good and His glory. Today let's say 'yes' to our King.

The Discipline of Celebration

"Whatever happens, my dear brothers and sisters, rejoice in the Lord. I never get tired of telling you these things, and I do it to safeguard your faith." Philippians 3:1

Recently I was talking to my sister about "defiant joy". This is an attitude I've adopted over the years when circumstances, people and longings endeavour to bring heartache and steal my joy. Life has hardships. At the onset of an unexpected grief, I don't deny the agony or stifle the tears. The hurt is real and my emotions respond honestly. But, after a time of allowing my feelings to express their voice, for me, there comes an acknowledgement that I can't remain in the pain. Lingering too long in the sadness has no value. I encourage myself to give evidence of "defiant joy". It is a response that looks the enemy in the eye and declares that despite how things appear, my joy is in the Lord. It's brilliant, when it works.

It is a challenge to choose joy. When the road is hard and nothing to celebrate is easily evident, joy can seem like a cruel expectation. It's not possible to find joy in disease, divorce, diagnosis, disappointments, destruction, deconstruction, division, delays and detours. It's true. Each one of these is a weight with potential to paralyze any passion that once used to burst forth in exuberance. 

Paul, the author of Philippians, encourages joy when "whatever happens". He doesn't give a list of possibilities. His wording is inclusive. "Whatever happens". If we were sitting over coffee right now, I'd love to know the "whatever happens" that have fallen into your lap. I'd tenderly take your hand, resist all distractions and listen. We can't rush through the sharing of our "whatever happens". They are deep, tough, unwelcomed and frightening. They can cause doubts and discouragement to arise. They don't seem fair and our fragile hearts can be on the verge of fainting away.  How can anyone ask us to find joy in this? If tears testify to tragedy, won't joy diminish the value of our suffering?

Ah, there it is. We aren't being told to be joyful because of the "whatever happens"; we are told to be joyful in the Lord. Life can be in chaos, but God hasn't changed. Our joy can remain steadfast in Christ. But wait...isn't He the One who has allowed, permitted, or dare we say, sent this calamity to touch our lives? We are to have joy in the One who could have prevented this earthquake from unsettling our souls and causing our world to shake and crumble? 

God requires our discipline of celebration to be an act of worship. It is easy to praise and be thankful when everything is going our way. Our natural response to good times is to sing and express happiness. Joy in the unnatural identifies us as belonging to the Lord. When troubles surround and surmount and we lift our voice in song, what a testimony to the Lord, even when our voices are no louder than a faint whisper and tears are the accompanying chords.

Paul writes that this type of offering safeguards our faith. As we rejoice our faith is strengthened because God inhabits the praise of His people (Psalm 22:3). As we exercise our joy muscle, our trust grows. God's very presence invades us as we praise. Focusing on joy turns our attention away from all the negative that is real and fixes our thoughts on what is true (Philippians 4:8). "Joy is not the absence of pain, it's the sacred acceptance of it." (Cheryl Brewster). 

The problem is that most of us have a theology that justifies suffering. We turn quickly to the Psalms of lament, or the weeping prophet Jeremiah, or the Book of Lamentations and find solace in scripture that echoes how we want to feel. If we surrender to this too long, we will never want to walk the road that brings us out to a place of healing and hope. God is a Redeemer and joy is a mercy of God's grace that understands that beyond the grief there is a Saviour.